The bi-monthly pub quiz I’ve been going to for almost two years always has a few themes worked into the questions.  The themes can be based on the time of year, something topical, or something totally random.  For instance, with St. Patrick’s Day looming, the themes this Sunday were Saints, the color green, NCAA Basketball (unfortunately), and random Irish stuff.

Early in the game Gentleman Caller and I both noticed an older gentleman sitting at the bar and drinking a cloudy yellow cocktail in a martini glass.  We debated for a while over what it could possibly be.  I said lemondrop, he said “that’s a shot”, I said “maybe it’s both”, he said “how would bartenders know what to make you when you ordered that if it’s actually two things?” etc. The old man at the bar seemed quite happy with whatever it was that he had ordered, and we promptly forgot he was there as we delved into the intense world of quizzing.

The visual round for this particular quiz required us to identify saints from their pictures.  This was tricky business, but we did better than I thought we would despite my suggestions like: “That guy was in the REM Losing my Religion video.”

When the quizzmasters were reading back the answers, the old guy with the fancy cocktail apparently took offense to SOMETHING, and ambled off after drunkenly yelling something unintelligible.  What I think he said was something like “you certainly can’t be a Catholic in this place!”  It also might have been, “You certainly can’t be a saint in this place!”  Gentleman Caller thinks he said “blah blah blah… in the ear!”

Regardless of what it was, it certainly didn’t make much sense, and after he left in a huff there was the collective look around in bafflement before we continued on with the answers to the visual round.  Even though it’s the least important thing in the world, I still wonder what the drunk guy said, and more importantly, what he meant by it.  Was he angry?  Was he trying to be funny?  Did he just want attention?  These are the things that stick in my head and render me unable to accomplish things.

Years ago, I was at Big Sky Resort in Montana and I met a guy from Mississippi, who not only assumed after hearing that I was from North Dakota that I was racist, but who also asserted that I had probably never even met a black person (I guess he just assumed I hate and fear the unknown).  I spent the better part of the night following him around demanding to know what would make him think that.  I wasn’t really offended because his accusation wasn’t based on anything I had done/said, and I’m not racist, just intrigued as to why someone would boldly make that assertion since all he knew about me was that I currently lived in Fargo, ND, a place I’m sure he hadn’t and will never visit.

He was drunk as well, and I never got a real answer out of him.  That clearly still bothers me, as well, but would it kill people to be a little less cryptic so I can go on with my life?

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